Godsmother
by Eliarra
Summary: Lord Alan, Lady Eleanor, and Lady Catherine, the twins' future godsmother. A short story in four parts.
1. Part One

**Godsmother, Part One**

Lady Catherine doesn't like Squire Alan, and she is quite sure he returns the feeling wholeheartedly. Unfortunately, there are things that tie them together. Parents, for one. Alan is from a good family—one of the best—and Catherine's mother thinks that Alan would make her as good a match as any. And then there is Eleanor. Catherine is not quite sure what Eleanor sees in Alan, but because of her friend's infatuation, she is forced to spend more time with him than makes her happy.

"Why _Alan_?" she asks Eleanor. "Of all the squires… he's certainly not the most handsome, or the kindest, or the best-liked. And you've told me time and time again it's not his family you care about."

"It's _not_," says Eleanor sharply, and Catherine can't say she blames her. They've been through this at least a hundred times, and Catherine can see why it might become wearing. "It's just…" Eleanor says, and then she's at a loss for words again, as she so often is when it comes to Alan of Trebond.

"Just _what_?" asks Catherine, although she knows already that she's not going to get an answer.

"He's… Well, he's…" says Eleanor. "You… you should spend more time with him, Cat. Maybe you'd see, if you got to know him better."

Catherine hates to be called 'Cat.' "I already spend too much time with him as it is," she informs Eleanor coldly, aware that she is echoing her thoughts of a minute before. "You really shouldn't force me to be near him anymore than I absolutely _have _to." She pauses, takes a bite of the lemon tart that's been sitting in front of her, untouched until now. "He's a pig, Eleanor. Still without a knight-master, after two years. He can't even fence, and he spends all his time with his books, and he doesn't even notice _you_ unless you're speaking to him—"

"Do you think I hadn't realized that?" Eleanor asks, and there is the tiniest hint of desperation in her voice, and in her eyes. Catherine pities her instantly, although she knows she shouldn't. That's her greatest flaw, really, that undeserved pity to anyone who looks like they might need her help. That's how she met Eleanor, after all, and look at all the trouble _that's _gotten her into.

"I suppose you would have," she says dryly, not letting any of the pity into her voice.

Eleanor, who knows her too well, finds it anyway. "If there's anyone you should feel sorry for, it's Alan. Perhaps if you were a little less cruel to him, you wouldn't find him so…"

"Unbearable?" Catherine finishes for her. "I doubt it, but I suppose it's worth a try."


	2. Part Two

**Godsmother, Part Two**

There's a ball to-night, which Catherine had forgotten about. Eleanor, on the other hand, seems to have been thinking of nothing of else for a week, from the way she's going on.

"What do you suppose Alan's favorite color is?" she asks, impatiently, fingering the gowns that she's hung in front of her. "I knew I should have had one made specially, but I never got around to it, and now I'll just have to o with something I already have."

Catherine bites back a rude retort. "You know I've absolutely no idea about Squire Alan's favorite color," she says instead. "And you've no need to flaunt your wealth, Eleanor. It's rude."

It's an old joke between them, not a real complaint. Catherine has long gotten used to the fact that Eleanor is better off than she is, although half the time she wonders if some of Eleanor's comments aren't meant just to spite her.

As if reading her mind, Eleanor says, "You know I'm only teasing you, Catherine. I don't truly care about Alan's favorite color, or gowns." But before Catherine can say anything, she adds, "But I do like him, Catherine, and I do want to make a good impression on him at the ball. And I'm not going to tolerate any more comments from you. You don't know Alan that well, you must admit that, and until you do, you're not allowed to say anything cruel about him."

Catherine hides a grin behind her hand. This is why she likes Eleanor. She's not like other noblewomen. She knows how to stand up for herself, although she knows how to do it in exactly the way a proper noblewoman should stand up for herself, if proper noblewomen did that kind of thing.

"All right," she says, and adds: "Wear the violet gown. You know it's the only one that really suits you."


	3. Part Three

**Godsmother, Part Three**

Squire Alan is stuttering such that Catherine has decided is the most incredibly annoying she's ever heard. Eleanor, however, doesn't seem to mind it at all. She is smiling in a way that's almost but not quite condescending, and very kind, and making her look even prettier than she already is.

"Tell us about what it's like to be a squire," she says, actually sounding curious. "I've always wondered what goes on outside the convent." _As if you didn't make sure to find out all of _that _as soon as you were situated in the palace_, Catherine thinks. Of _course_ Eleanor knows what goes on outside the convent. Sometimes it seems to Catherine as if she knows _everything_.

"It's terrible," says Alan. Then he swallows visibly and his face gets red. "I mean, I'm not very good at it. I mean— I mean—"

"He's certainly not very well-spoken," Catherine whispers in a tone that she doesn't _really _mean for Alan to hear, but of course it can't really hurt for him to learn manners. And obviously he _has _heard, for now he's blushing harder than ever.

Eleanor glares at her and says to Alan, "I'm sure it _is_ very hard. I mean, I can't imagine that it would be pleasant. What kinds of things do they make you do?"

That's another thing she already knows, another thing she found it in her first day at the palace. But, Catherine supposes, that's only the point of polite conversation. You can't control the way it's going if you don't know the answers to the questions you're asking.

"Well, there's training," said Alan, "and there's lessons." Catherine wants to role her eyes at the complete obviousness of the statement, but for Eleanor's sake, she refrains. "The lessons aren't so bad, but I've never been very good at the combat kinds of things."

"I'm sure I wouldn't be, either," Eleanor says, smiling. This time Catherine _does_ roll her eyes. Really, it seems Eleanor is as bad with boys as Squire Alan is with girls.

They continue talking in a nonsensical fashion. Catherine decides that she'd rather go somewhere else, and does so. Eleanor gives her this _look_, which makes her feel rather guilty, but then she didn't say she'd stay by Eleanor's side the entire evening.


	4. Part Four

**Godsmother, Part Four**

Some years later, she comes to their wedding.

And then, sometime after that, her maid is at her door, telling her that Lord Alan is here to see her. She wonders, momentarily, that Lis left out Eleanor's name in her announcement, but she can think of no reason that Alan would visit her alone. She concludes that it's simply Lis being Lis, and not thinking that Eleanor is important enough to merit an introduction.

She waits for them to come. She wonders if this visit means what she thinks it means. Eleanor will be having her baby any day now—perhaps it's already been born. That's what she's assuming. That's what she thinks they've come to tell her. Strange, though, because she hasn't spoken to Eleanor in a while, now. They've written, but she doesn't think she's actually _spoken_ to the other woman since the wedding.

Oh well, something different will be interesting. She's just re-married a week ago, and really, she doesn't like her second husband any better than the first, although he _is_ slightly richer. She has the money, but she can't say she's happy with her life. She's looking forward to speaking with Eleanor, and looking at her baby.

And then Alan comes in. Alone. She thinks, Lis _was_ telling the truth, and it surprises her somewhat. She doesn't like the expression on Alan's face.

"Where's Eleanor?" she asks, before he can say anything.

And then he does speak, in a strange dull voice that reminds her of their first meeting, when he was a squire, and incredibly uncomfortable. He says, "Eleanor's dead. She died in childbirth."

"Oh," says Catherine. And then "Oh," again, and still it hasn't quite been able to sink in. Eleanor, dead? Eleanor can't be dead. She's going to have a baby… "I'm sorry," says Catherine, and to her surprise, means it. Eleanor might be the one person in the world she actually _liked_. And for Eleanor's sake, she pities Alan.

"Eleanor wanted you to be the twins' godsmother," says Alan, not sounding at all pleased at the prospect. Twins. Eleanor had twins. That's wonderful. Would be wonderful, if not for…

"I'd be honored," she tells Alan. "I'd be honored to be godsmother to Eleanor's children."


End file.
